“Mrs. Hurling and Gloria are good friends,” Logan explained. “She probably called Gloria, who in turn called Rupert.” His smile grew. “At times, this small-town mentality used to bug the heck out of me. But when you live in a cold city…”
“You come to appreciate just what being a community means,” Holly finished for him.
“This inn and the Christmas family mean more to both Anastasia Island and St. Augustine than I think Victor, Pamela, and their team anticipated.”
Holly knew he was right, and the hope that they might still be able to pull this off surged through her once again. Probably by the most slim of margins. But they would pull it off.
She blew out a breath. “This is so nerve-racking,” she told Logan as they went to find Jack and Charlie and fill them in on the news.
“I know, right?” Logan looked at her. “It’s like watching a movie that takes you right to the last moment and you think… surely this isn’t how the writers are going to make this end…”
“And then the miracle happens?” Holly added.
“Exactly.” Logan blew out a breath as they got to the library door. “Ready to face whatever’s going on inside there?”
“I think Jack could use some good news.” Holly nodded as they entered the room.
11
JACK
Jack sat in the library across from Charlie, staring at the thick manila envelope on the desk between them. His hands were clenched into fists on his thighs, and he could feel his jaw aching from how hard he was grinding his teeth.
The offer from Victor Martin, delivered via Simon Bennett’s law firm, sat open on the desk. Jack had read it three times now, and each time his blood pressure had risen a little higher.
“This is insulting,” Jack said, his voice low and dangerous. “Two million dollars for a property that’s been in my family for four generations. A property on prime beachfront real estate that’s worth at least six million, probably more.”
Charlie nodded, her expression grim as she reviewed the documents. “It’s a lowball offer. Deliberately so. They’re counting on you being desperate enough to accept it.”
“But that’s not even what makes me furious,” Jack continued, flipping to the pages stapled behind the offer letter. “Look at this inspection report they included. Where is the updated report?”
Charlie pulled the report closer and began reading aloud. “Structural integrity compromised throughout the second and first floors. Extensive termite damage in multiple rooms. The electrical system is outdated and potentially hazardous. Plumbing issues in guest bathrooms. The building is not suitable for occupancy without major repairs estimated at one point five million dollars or more.” She looked up at Jack, her eyes sharp. “This report is dated two months ago.”
“Exactly,” Jack said, nodding. “Where is the report from a week ago?”
He pulled up the PDF from his phone and handed the device to Charlie. She read through it quickly, her frown deepening.
“This says the building is structurally sound,” Charlie said. “There are still minor cosmetic issues. Some aging fixtures that should be replaced for aesthetic reasons, but nothing dangerous. No mention of termites. No electrical hazards. This report gives the inn a clean bill of health.”
“How long does it take to file a report like this?” Jack’s question was rhetorical. He knew how long, and there was no reason why Vincent’s team wouldn’t have it.
“Can I send this to myself?” Charlie asked, already typingon his phone.
“Yes, of course,” Jack said.
Charlie forwarded the document to her email and handed the phone back to Jack. “I’ll find out if this new report has been filed.”
She pulled out her own phone and dialed. Jack watched as she waited for someone to answer, his stomach churning with dread.
“Yes, this is Charlotte Burke. I’m an attorney representing the Christmas Inn on Anastasia Island. I need to verify some inspection records for the property.”
Charlie paused, listening. Jack couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but he could see her expression growing more concerned.
“The property address is 1247 Ocean Boulevard. The owner received an inspection report dated December 15th from George Hartwell. I’m calling to verify that the report was filed with your office.”
Another pause. Charlie picked up her pen and started making notes. “I see. And when was the last official inspection on file for that property?”
Jack leaned forward, trying to read Charlie’s face, but she had put on her lawyer expression. Neutral. Giving nothing away. He couldn’t hear anything from the other side either.
